On the couch
by nicol-leoraine
Summary: Did Tony say he had a therapist? Written for the challenge on LFWS Session 4, Round 2


**Title:** On the couch

**Character(s):** Anthony DiNozzo

**Genre(s):** Character study

**Word Count:** 986

**Beta-reader:** Tania

A/N: This was written for NCIS LFWS Session 4 - Round 2. The prompt was: **Character Study:** Start your story with the line _I am the one who…_. Anything after that is up to you, but you must start with that line. Word count may not exceed 1000.

xoxox

"I'm the one who shot the kid," Tony said heavily, running one hand through his hair and fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt. The woman sitting on the other side of the room nodded, encouraging him to carry on.

"Why did you shoot him, Tony?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Don't you already know the answer?''He replied with a snort. ''It was all over the news."

"I want to know your motivation, not what was said in the news.''

"Right," Tony nodded, smiling sheepishly. He had already completed the psych evaluation needed to return to duty, and he passed it with flying colours. After all, he was a pro at pretending, and he knew all the right answers and reactions. The reason he was here now was because he needed to talk. He needed a place where he could drop his mask and be himself, without repercussions on his work status. Tony was paying the therapist and he knew she wouldn't say a word to anyone else. It was like giving confession to a priest, only she could give him more realistic advice, without the threat of burning in hell.

"What happened at the house, Tony?" she asked, startling the agent out of his thoughts. Tony blinked, and with a sigh leaned back on the couch, unconsciously rubbing at his forehead.

"We went to the house to arrest Corporal Tucker for murder. All trails lead to him, and we found the murder weapon in his house. He had motive, no alibi and he had already threatened the victim a few months prior. When we barged in and arrested him, he confessed." Tony grimaced at the memory. They had pulled Tucker out of bed, still half asleep and recited him his rights, as his wife and son looked on with wide eyes, scared and confused. Tony's gut warned him that something wasn't right almost immediately, but he couldn't tell what. After all, the evidence was right there, hanging in a bag in McGee's hands.

"What was your gut telling you, Tony?" the therapist asked, and Tony frowned. "Most of the cops I see pay very good attention to what their gut is telling them, and with good reason. Instincts are important for survival. So what were your instincts telling you that night?"

"That it was too easy," Tony admitted after a moment. "Tucker didn't utter a word of protest, he didn't fight. Hell, I could've sworn for a moment he looked relieved. Killers don't look relieved when they're being put away, Doc. They look mad. They fight us, try to run. Tucker just looked at his son and said 'It's alright, Jake.'"

"What did you think about it?"

"Dunno. Just had a bad feeling. Ziva and McGee were already escorting Tucker out to the car. Gibbs stayed to explain to his wife where he was being taken. I was just standing there, thinking." Tony shook his head, voice filled with self-recrimination. "I should've seen it coming."

"What happened?"

"The boy walked away from his mother, toward the liquor cabinet. He was shaky and it looked like he just wanted to fix his mother a drink. He moved slowly, prepared a glass, and then reached inside, looking for something. Next thing I knew, he was pointing a loaded gun at Gibbs' head." What happened next was a rush of images. Tony saw the sudden movement and his training kicked in. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at the boy. Gibbs was just turning around to see what the ruckus was about when they both heard the unmistakable sound of a safety clip being released. As if in slow motion, Tony saw the tightening of the boy's finger on the trigger, at the same time as Gibbs shoved the startled mother to the ground, pulling out his own gun. Tony knew it would've been too late. He saw the determination in the kid's eyes, the rage. So he pulled the trigger.

"You didn't kill him," the therapist said, after giving Tony a moment to himself.

"No, I didn't," Tony replied, his voice suddenly tired. "The bullet lodged in his shoulder, but aside from some minor nerve damage, he's gonna be okay." Despite what she might've thought, Tony didn't feel guilty about shooting the kid. Hell, the kid had already killed one man and was about to shoot Gibbs. Sure it sucked, but that was life.

"Is there something else that's bothering you then?"

"You know, I've been wondering ever since, if my father would've done the same for me."

"What, taking blame for something you did? Trying to keep you safe, even knowing you killed someone?"

Tony nodded.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. I doubt he would have even known I was in trouble. Or the other way around."

"What about agent Gibbs?"

"Huh?" Tony looked up, confused.

"Do you think he would've done the same as Tucker?"

This time it took Tony longer to figure out the answer. When he got it though, he smiled.

"You mean, if he would confess to a murder he didn't commit just to save me from prison? No!" Tony laughed out loud at that, and then sobered, remembering the time when he _had _been accused of murder. "But he would do his best to prove my innocence, or if I was guilty, to knock some sense into my head."

"Do you think if agent Gibbs was the one who saw the gun pointed at your head that he would've reacted different?"

Tony shook his head without thinking.

"Nah. But if it hadn't been a kid with the gun, he probably would've shot to kill."

"Because he has your six, just like you have his." The therapist added, with a little twitch of her lips that could've been interpreted as a smile.

"Yeah, that he has," Tony agreed with a smile of his own.

The end


End file.
